


the memory that I was yours and you were mine

by toushindai (WallofIllusion)



Category: Baccano!
Genre: F/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 06:57:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8479579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallofIllusion/pseuds/toushindai
Summary: Before she leaves him--





	

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of inspired by an anonymous ask prompt ("scared kiss") on Tumblr, kinda just did my own thing.
> 
> Dyou think, when Yen Press gets to translating Another Junk Railroad, they'll get to change Huey's mention of 妻 or nah? Anyway,

Later was later.

This was now.

And in the now she was still here in Huey’s arms—she kept trying to tell herself that.

It should have worked. Under any other circumstances, her Huey face—it had never been a mask, not that one, not now either—won out over anything else when she was with him. Her love for him was the most definite, most unchanging part of her, and even though the blushing and stammering were embarrassing, it was worth it because of the joy that was wrapped up in it.

But now a panicky, childish despair—a voice that kept saying _it’s the last time_ —kept poisoning that joy.

_Smile_ , she tried to tell herself, or the ever-present thought of Elmer tried to tell her, but even cuddled as she was against Huey’s chest, her smile kept slipping.

Huey’s hand traced up her spine gently. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” he murmured.

So, it was obvious. He didn’t even need to ask if something was wrong. And she _did_ want to talk about it. She knew she was doing something unfair to him—that every time she denied the urge to explain what she needed to do, she was telling a new lie, breaking over and over the trust that he had fought against himself to place in her.

But she couldn’t tell him.

If he found out about the play, her past—if he found out they were trying to corner her—then he wouldn’t spare a second thought for the fact that they were after him, too. He would burn with anger and try to rise against them, and they would roll over him like an avalanche sweeping up a loose stone.

The only way to prevent that…

But if she remembered that now, her heart would break. Instead she lifted her head and pressed her lips against Huey’s, kissing him hard. He groaned in answer. She held him close to her and her body sung with the feeling of his skin against hers, his warmth seeping into her shivering limbs, and _it’s the last time_ —

“Huey,” she said urgently to disguise the way her breath caught and tears stung at her eyes. But just his name wouldn’t be enough to hide it. She struggled to find more words, unthinking and hurried: “I—um—I think—I—d-do you want to get married?”

Not until he gasped did she realize what she’d said. Then she turned a bright pink and sat up, putting a little frantic distance between herself and him. She buried her face in her hands as he, too, sat up.

“N-no, that—I—I didn’t—s-sorry, I just—”

“Monica…” His voice slipped between her disjointed protests, soft with wonder.

She shook her head, stomach tight with horror. She couldn’t. She couldn’t do this to him now, not with what she intended to do. “Forget it,” she pleaded. “I—that just slipped out. It’s just, Auntie has been—because—” No, she couldn’t tell him that, either. No, this was all wrong. “Forget it,” she said again in a whisper.

But Huey’s hands came to rest on her shoulders, and when she peeked between her fingers, he was looking at her with wide eyes and a flushed face. “Monica,” he said, his voice still soft. “Did you mean that? Would you… want to marry someone like me?”

She wanted to beg him not to ask her that question, but her mind was already crafting the fantasy: the two of them, somewhere far away and safe and happy. Raising the child she was carrying. Growing old, together. Tears spilled out of her eyes and she sat petrified by the impossible thought.

“I can’t,” she whispered finally. But she saw a dark, protective anger alight in Huey’s eyes at that, and her stomach plunged. “No—”

“Monica. Listen to me.” His hands tightened around her shoulders and his eyes were serious. “I want to marry you.”

She couldn’t breathe. Honesty tripped out of her against her will: “I-I want to marry you, too… Huey…”

He gave a trembling smile at her answer, all amazement and soft surprise, and her heart beat fast in her chest. She couldn’t give into this. She couldn’t let indulge herself in this love, in the happiness that made her head spin. But she was lost, so lost, when she looked at his face.

“Then let’s do it,” Huey said, as if it were as simple as that.

Monica made herself shake her head. “But—but what if it’s impossible? What if I can’t be happy, what if—what if someday…”

He pulled her in for a kiss and she answered it, irresistibly. _The last time_ , the voice in the back of her head said, but also _maybe, maybe I don’t have to_ , and she let that delusion live for just a moment.

Huey traced her jaw with his fingertips when they finally pulled back. “If there’s an outside force that doesn’t want you to be happy, I don’t care. I want you to be happy. I’ll fight for that.”

He couldn’t. He’d never win, not against them. She had to do whatever it took to keep him from trying and dooming himself.

She said none of that out loud, and did her best to keep it off of her face, but Huey continued anyway.

“If that’s really impossible… Monica, I want to leave something behind. If you’re so sure that something is going to destroy us someday, then I want there to be unshakeable evidence of our love. I … I want you to be my wife.”

Monica shook. She wasn’t strong enough to fight against this delusion of a happy ending, against Huey’s kindness and love. She wasn’t strong enough to say no. Her lips trembled and she asked, “Even if it’s only for a little while?”

Huey’s voice was serious. “If it were only for a day, I’d still want to marry you.”

Ah.

So that was it, then.

It was the worst and most perfect thing he could have said. With those words, Monica felt everything fit into place, her love and Huey’s desire and what she would have to do. Her delusional hope vanished like a breath of wind and the vestiges of panic faded from around her despair. This feeling—this, she could handle.

She smiled a little, genuinely.

She lifted her hands to Huey’s face and drank him in, his gorgeous eyes and raven hair and gentle lips. She loved him so much.

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow, okay?” she whispered, and he nodded.

She was lying. By tomorrow, she would be gone, probably dead. But she had to make him wait until tomorrow, because as long as they didn’t swear themselves to each other here, at least he would have the option to hate her for her deception.

_The last time_ , her mind whispered when they pulled each other into a kiss, and she promised herself that she would make it count. 


End file.
